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I'm Hailey Anne Monroe. I’m 28 years old. An artist, who found her muse on the canvas because I wasn’t allowed to have friends or even keep a journal. And yes, if you haven’t guessed by now, I’m that Hailey Anne Monroe, daughter to Thomas Frank Monroe, the man who was a half-percentage point from becoming president of the United States. If you were able to ask him, he’d probably tell you that I was the half point. But you can’t ask him, and he can’t tell you. He’s dead. They’re all dead, and now, I can speak.

They say Paris is always a good idea.... You know what I say? Paris would be a much better idea if I spoke the dang language. I can't even board the metro to visit the Louvre without ending up at the Moulin Rouge, and let's not even mention how I'll ever make it through a day at my new office. Fortunately my company hooks me up with my own personal translator. Ooh la la. Or should I say bloody hell? Because he's charming, witty, and British, and he brings the city to life for me.

Being labelled a player never stopped me from being successful with women. Until I met Truly Harbury. Truly was the first girl who ever turned me down. And she might just be the first woman with whom I ever fall in love. When an emergency means she needs my help running her family’s charity, I’m happy to introduce her to the glitz and glamour of the London business world - taking her to dinners, coaching her through speeches, zipping up the sexy evening gown I helped her pick out. The more time we spend together, the more I want to convince her I’m not a man to avoid.